Special Brownies
by Kaylorin
Summary: Rating for hints of Drug use. this is just fluff with no real story. I watch that 70's show... and bad ideas brew. Sorry.


A/N: The idea for this came one night watching That 70's Show, and I decided this just had to be done.  
  
Why?  
  
I don't know. Don't ask me hard questions.  
  
Oh, and this is a random season 4 fic. Maybe summer between season 4 and 5. Whatever.  
  
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Special Brownies ~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Spike waited in the darkness of the ally behind The Bronze for his next idiotic victim. One that would believe a vampire would rather have cash than blood in the early evening.  
  
It was a long boring wait.  
  
He'd picked out the perfect spot. One with few passers by so that once he vamped out only those he intended would see him. Unfortunately that meant long waits between feigned attacks. And one could not choose at random, not unless he wanted to waste his time. No, he looked for the sharp dressers, the well groomed, the properly accessorised. Small groups, or even the rare loner.  
  
As he thought of this, a well dressed young man walked down the ally. He had his hands burrowed deeply into the pockets of an oversized, zipped black leather jacket, and constantly looked around as he walked hurriedly towards Spike's hiding spot, unaware of who was standing in the shadows.  
  
Spike took a small step out of the dark stopping in front of the paranoid man. "Evenin', mate."  
  
"Huh? Oh. Hi." The man said still looking around. He met Spike's height easily, but had yet to look at the stranger in his path.  
  
Spike watched the man's quick and shaky movements. "What'cha got on ya?"  
  
The man stopped looking around and looked at Spike for the first time dead on. He jumped back a few feet and fell backwards onto the ground rump first.  
  
"What the. what are you?" He asked, scooting himself backwards as he kicked the ground in front of him with his thick-soled hiking boots.  
  
"New in town then are you?" Spike sauntered towards the man on the ground and looked down on him with his demon visage in place. "I'm a vampire. Pretty regular thing round here; vampires that is. Here's the deal." Spike paused and took out a cigarette, lighting it casually as he spoke. "You give me any cash, valuables, jewelry works as well." He watched the man, hoping he was getting all this and continued talking around his lit smoke. "Then I let you stand up and walk out of here with all your pints still flowing through your veins. Not mine."  
  
Spike waited for a response but the shaking lump on the ground just stared up at him. The blonde shook his head and took a drag off his burning cigarette. "I hate the new ones in town. Takes too long to get over the whole; 'There are vampires?' thing." He said more to himself than the man on the ground.  
  
With little patients Spike leaned down and snapped his fingers in front of the man's blank stare while letting his human face slip back into place. "Hey now. We clear on this deal?"  
  
Still only dark glazed eyes looked back at him.  
  
Time for a bluff. He shrugged. "Fine. Guess I get to have a bite then."  
  
"WHAT!?!" The man finally broke free from his shock-induced trance. "No! Here! Here!" He scrambled to his feet, tossed down his wallet then unzipped his jacket to reveal a brown paper bag, which he also tossed onto the ground.  
  
Spike looked at the two items on the black-top and back at the still shaking, but now standing man.  
  
Curious, Spike picked up the bag and opened it. The first smell that hit him was sweet chocolate. He looked in to see squares of brownies wrapped up and ready to be served inside. Then another scent hit him. One he hadn't sensed in quite a few years. He looked back at the man who had a wide grin and nodded over and over again.  
  
"They're really good." The man said, hoping this would appease the monster.  
  
Spike cocked his head to the side. "Are these wha' I think they are?"  
  
||||~~~~~||||~~~~~||||  
  
Buffy slammed the door to the crypt open and charged inside.  
  
"Spike!" she walked past the sarcophagus and towards the back of the crypt. His new home had little to nothing to offer. All he'd managed to scavenge was an old refrigerator, a television set and a VCR that she quite frankly doubted worked. There was a ratty chair that she was sure couldn't look any worse, or uncomfortable sitting in front of the slab that held the vampire's few possessions.  
  
She spun around and grumbled. "Figures. Riley's out of town and I have a big baddie that could actually turn out to be big and bad." She crossed her arms.  
  
"Spike. I have cash. Green and everything." She called to the empty crypt.  
  
Still no answer. "Fine." And she began walking to the door then saw the neat pile on the cement slab.  
  
Atop a plate was a stack of brownies, beside it a container of milk. She raised a manicured eyebrow at the sight and looked again around the empty crypt. "Why does Spike have brownies? Or milk for that matter?" She took a few steps towards the odd sight. "And since when does he have dinner wear?"  
  
She leaned in to the tower of chocolate and inhaled. Without a second thought she grabbed the brownie sitting at the apex of the pyramid and ate it in a very unladylike fashion, practically shoving it in her mouth.  
  
"Mmmm. Chocolatey goodness." She decided, and grabbed a few more, eating them in the same fashion.  
  
After her last bite she looked back at the plate. The pyramid was ruined. She really didn't feel like fighting a possible nastie AND Spike tonight.  
  
Quickly she rearranged the squares into a pyramid again, then spun and walked out the door.  
  
She'd have to kill the 'new to Sunnydale' demon alone.  
  
||||~~~~~||||~~~~~||||  
  
Spike came up from the trap door making a bee line for the television. He'd been lucky that night and was able to get human blood, a perfect side to his newly procured treat. With Harmony out of his hair for the moment, a night alone in a 'high' mire with good blood sounded like a fun time, and he was ready for one.  
  
He walked back towards the slab and yanked the armchair into position in front of the TV and within reach of his treats. A smile formed as he turned the VCR on and watched his prerecorded tape of several Passions episodes.  
  
It wasn't until he reached out and grabbed one of the brownies that he noticed it.  
  
The Slayer.  
  
She wasn't here, but had been. Eyeing the stack of chocolate piled high on his one yet unbroken plate, he wondered if she might have snagged a little treat for herself, and grinned even wider.  
  
Maybe Passions wasn't going to be the most entertaining thing in Sunnydale this evening.  
  
Chowing down on the first square his hand had met, he decided a little walk around town could be in store before the night was over, if for no other reason than to find the stoned Slayer and watch her get killed.  
  
||||~~~~||||~~~~||||  
  
"Xander was right." She said and threw another berrage of punches at the slimy green demon in front of her. "You are a giant phlegm monster aren't you?"  
  
The monster's response was gurgled by the mucus draining from every pore on it's skin from the top of his bald head to his bare toes. It swung randomly, hoping to connect with the head of the tiny woman in front of him. It's words cursed unintelligibly.  
  
Buffy took steps back and picked up the sword she'd dropped a few minutes ago. It was moist from the wetness left on the ground from the earlier drizzle and shimmered in the light. She studied the crystal-like formations along the blade. "Oh, that's pretty."  
  
She twisted her wrist so the drops could catch the little light illuminating form the moon above. "Isn't that pretty?" She asked the monster.  
  
He gurgled a response before hurling himself at her.  
  
Buffy was forced to the ground by the mass of weight colliding into her. The demon's hands swung again, still without much aim, but now with the slayer held down as he straddled her, aim wasn't as important.  
  
Buffy squirmed below the creature. She tried pushing him off of her, but even with her strength her grip kept sliding through the substance covering his body. After trying with futility several times, she finally decided how to use the situation to her advantage. Now blocking many of the moves, she looked for an opening to simply slide out from under the demon.  
  
It's bulky arm swung towards her head and she twisted just enough for the dripping fist to grind into the grass instead of her face. She used the moment of his upward movement to twist under him and slide up, giving her the range of movement needed to free herself. She fumbled for a moment as she stood, looking again for the sword, before picking it up, this time turning and lopping the demon's head off in one smooth stroke.  
  
A sigh of relief passed her lips before she looked down at her hand still holding the sword. Not only was it covered with the green ooze, but so was her hand, arm, shoulder, her hair. She was covered from head to toe. Only part of her torso seemed to have been spared. Her face crinkled at the image in her head of how she had to look.  
  
"Well there goes any plans for The Bronze later." She said whipping her hands through the air, flinging gobs of slime in all directions.  
  
"I so can't go home." She looked down at what had been a pair of stylish boots on her feet. Just like her hair, they were covered. "If I get this in the house, mom'll kill me." She mused out loud.  
  
She looked around trying to come up with an idea on how to get cleaned up, but her mind kept wondering to other things. She was thirsty. A cola would really hit the spot. And she wondered if Xander and Willow were already at The Bronze, then she wondered if her mom would try to wait up for her again. She'd been doing it all summer. Then she wondered if Riley was having fun visiting his parents, then she wondered what else he was doing.  
  
A stick cracked behind her and she spun as her mind came back to focus, almost falling when she'd finished the turn. After catching her balance she looked to where the sound had come. It only took her a moment to pick out the form trying to stay hidden among the trees at the edge of the cemetery.  
  
"You might as well come out. I can see you." She proclaimed almost proudly.  
  
The swish of his leather duster proceeded him as always. Before Buffy could complete a blink, his smirking face came into focus, and she noticed Spike's eyes perusing her from head to toe.  
  
"So Slayer. Anythin interesting this evening?" He asked with a brow raised and a snarky grin firmly in place.  
  
She couldn't help it. She crossed her arms and planted on her best poker face. "Not really. You?"  
  
Again, he couldn't help but look her over. She was caked in muck. Her boots were ruined. There was goo dripping from her hair and about the only place not completely covered in the green shining ooze was her neck and face. And even at that, admitting something was up was too much. He had to chuckle.  
  
Captain Cardboard left four days ago to visit the family in farm-boy land. That he knew. In that time, Buffy had patrolled every night, sometimes before then after a night at The Bronze. A vamp had to know these things. She was the Slayer after all. It had absolutely nothing to do with what Dru said. He didn't like the slayer. He didn't care for her at all. He didn't like her shampoo commercial hair. It was annoying.  
  
Ok, those brownies were good.  
  
What was he thinking? Oh yeah. Slimy, disgusting, bad slayer. Oh yeah, she was going to die, cuz she's stoned.  
  
Who's stoned?  
  
Buffy watched Spike stand there. This was usually when he had a smart comment. Something rude, crude, and ungentlemanly. All in all, Spike-like. But he just stood there. A very annoying and also time-consuming kinda thing. "Spike?!" She finally blurted out.  
  
His head whipped back up to her face. Ok, maybe it's been more than a few years, and maybe eating half the plate was a bad idea.  
  
"Bu-Slayer." He tried to sound relaxed.  
  
Buffy didn't get it. What was wrong with him? No remarks? She looked down at herself again. There had to be one comment in there. How would even chipped Spike let this go? Slimy Slayer. Right here. Hello!!  
  
She decided to take advantage. "Look, I could use a place to get cleaned up."  
  
"Cleaned up?" Spike echoed, then he came out of his stupor trying, with not so much luck , to be smooth. "Thought you said there wasn't anything goin' on? Why would you need a cleanup?"  
  
Buffy kept her arms crossed. "Spike? Are you blind? Hello. I'm like goo- girl here." She said, wondering what the heck was wrong with the former Big Bad.  
  
He smiled, now remembering the wonderful plan of watching the slayer die, and at the very least, annoy her. "Oh yeah?" He pulled out his cigarettes and went to work lighting one. "And how's that any problem of mine?"  
  
She looked at him incredulously. "Come one. Look at me!" She held her arms out to display the disgustingness that was 'being Buffy' at the moment. "I can't go home like this."  
  
"Oh no?" He looked surprised. "You don't think Joyce would appreciate it?"  
  
Buffy Narrowed her eyes. "Spike."  
  
He waited and took another drag. "Slayer?"  
  
Then Buffy smiled, almost menacingly at him, as an idea hit her. "Fine. I'll just tell my mom I asked you for help, and you decided not to. That it wasn't worth your time. After all, it's not like you don't have hundreds of friendly humans happy to talk to you about old relics. Make hot cocoa, treat you like. well not what you are."  
  
He blew the smoke out easily and watched her for signs of a bluff. He liked Joyce. More than he probably should. But she was one of the true, pure souls. He looked back at Buffy. Until this moment, he thought it may run in the family. "You wouldn't."  
  
She just grinned.  
  
He shook his head and tossed the rest of his cigarette into the grass. "Fine. But you'll be forcing me to change a few things with this."  
  
Buffy crinkled her brow. "Like what?"  
  
He shook his head and strode to out of the cemetery. "You'll see."  
  
On the way Spike said nothing. He seemed intent on whatever thoughts went through his head. About two seconds before she saw the sign for the cheapest hotel in Sunnydale, Buffy began to get scared. This was the place Faith had stayed. There were no good memories here, and she really didn't want to be here. Not at all.  
  
Despite her feelings, she followed Spike up one flight and down the balcony towards a door. He stopped, looked again at her and shook his head at himself, something he'd been doing the entire walk, then pulled out a set of keys.  
  
Buffy eyed the key-ring. There were at least 10 keys, and one apparently fit the lock of room 124.  
  
The paint was pealing from the red door, and a few flakes fell when he turned the rusty knob. "Great idea," Buffy thought to herself. "Go to the evil vampire." She had to mimic his actions, and shook her head at herself.  
  
In all honesty the room wasn't that bad. It was clean at least. There was, of course, a double sized bed in the center of the main room. Off to the side was a small kitchenette, complete with a tiny oven with a 2 burner stove above. Next to it, a sink that could barely hold enough water to clean a plate, but would be usable for a short stay.  
  
A little further down was the entrance to the bathroom. Right now, that was Buffy's destination. Spike motioned her back to it. "Go on. I'll be back in a bit."  
  
Buffy nodded, a bit sheepishly and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She no sooner turned on the water, than heard the door of the room open and close. Spike was gone. She wasn't sure if it was for her privacy, or if he was just off on a demon run of some sort, but being alone was good.  
  
Again she looked down at herself, and sighed. She had to clean her clothes first, before she could even enjoy a shower. Slowly and methodically she began to peal off her cloths. Grunting and 'eweing' through the whole process.  
  
||||~~~~~||||~~~~~||||  
  
Spike mumbled at himself. Not only was he giving up on of his last safe havens from her high bitchyness, but she was showering, naked, in the shower he showered in, naked.  
  
Bad thoughts. Nothing good came of these.  
  
And so what if he had a few dreams where he begged her not to haunt him anymore. Where he woke up just as he begged her to stake him. At least nothing else happened in those dreams. Even the idea, it was disgusting.  
  
This was what bothered him. He'd never been disgusted by a human before. Sure she was a Slayer, but she was still a female, and a good looking female at that. Good looking? Good looking?? That didn't even begin.,.. but she's a slayer, and so she's disgusting.  
  
No.  
  
Really.  
  
She is.  
  
Naked.  
  
In my shower.  
  
He stopped in mid-stride, and smiled.  
  
"Argh!" He was angry. Angry at it all. The chip, Dru, The Slayer. Harmony. Three out of four of his problems were female. So all females were the cause of his problems. That he knew. It was like those dentist commercials, where 4 out of 5 dentists recommended.. Whatever paste was popular this decade.  
  
Somewhere in his thoughts he'd started walking again. He stood there, in front of her house. In front of the home of the person he was supposed to be killing. Why?  
  
He smiled at the predicament, and knocked softly, waiting.  
  
He counted off what he thought was a respectable amount of time and knocked again. It was still about 11 in the evening. The house could be asleep for the night, but not likely.  
  
The door opened slowly, a tuft of blond hair peaked out of the door in the small crack opening, barely covering the eye of its owner.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"'Ello Joyce. How are ya'?  
  
She opened the door and invited him in. "I'm fine. What's-what's going on. Is Buffy ok?"  
  
"Slayer's fine. Got hold of a Eomtra demon I expect. Covered in slime. She's cleanin' up, but her cloths suffered." He said and swept into the family room comfortably. He turned to see a slightly disheveled mother of the chosen. He'd noticed Joyce's new habit of waiting up for Buffy lately. She'd most likely conked out on the couch. The TV Now showed snow from a finished VHS movie.  
  
"But she's ok?' Joyce wanted to reaffirm.  
  
"She's fine. Like I said, her clothes suffered the brunt of the assault. I'm 'ere to get a change. Something for 'er to change into."  
  
"Oh." Joyce seemed to follow the statement. "Of course. I'll see what she has." She nodded and headed up the stairs.  
  
Spike walked around the familiar area of the Summers home. Looking over pictures of Buffy taken just a few years ago. She was younger. There were the generic school photos, a few of her in ice skates, one in a cheerleading outfit.  
  
It didn't take long for Joyce to put together a bag of clothing for Buffy. She came down the steps holding one of the leather bags he knew she used for weapons. "I put a change of clothes and some soap, along with her shampoo in here." She said when she reached the main floor and handed the bundle to the vampire. "You're sure she's ok?"  
  
Spike gripped the handle. "She's fine. A bit tuckered out, I think. But she's fine."  
  
Joyce smiled at him. It was all still too odd. New, Unreal. Her daughter was, a vampire slayer, and one of the people that tended to help out was a vampire. She never really liked Angel. Mostly because he wasn't who he was. And in the most basic of ways. Spike was, at one time, evil. But he seemed like a true soul. And yes, she knew he had no soul. But still.  
  
"Spike, look, if she's ok, I mean comfortable. Let her be. Maybe she could get some real sleep. The last few nights. she's been having some bad nights. She doesn't come home." Joyce wasn't sure what to say. She never felt comfortable talking to Mr. Giles, not Willow, and not Xander about Buffy. For some reason she did feel comfortable talking about this to Spike. She never knew why, but she did. "See if you can get her to sleep at least. Maybe more than the 3 hours she's averaging lately."  
  
She said, almost sarcastically, except Spike could tell she was being honest.  
  
He saw the real worry in the mother's eyes, and sighed to himself. For some reason he just couldn't turn down the fairer sex. He nodded slightly and smiled. ""Right Joyce. I'll make sure she gets some productive Z's."  
  
Joyce gave him a parting smile, and waved him off.  
  
||||~~~~~||||~~~~~||||  
  
Buffy scrubbed the last bit of goo from her pants using the meager bar soap provided. The smell wouldn't be gone until the garment had a proper washing, but the cloths she'd been wearing wouldn't leave a trail of goo behind. Which was a plus at this point.  
  
The Slayer went to work cleaning the bathtub that had been used as a washing basin for her cloths. By the time the porcelain was white again Buffy heard the door slam shut.  
  
She held the towel around her tightly and listened to the movement out in the main room.  
  
"Slayer?" She heard come from behind the door.  
  
"I'm still here."  
  
His hard footfalls thumped along the floor to the other side of the closed door. "Got you some cloths, an' told Joyce not to worry. That you needed to clean up an all."  
  
Buffy cracked the door open enough to peek out. "Oh. Thanks." She said a little confused, then saw her bag in his hands.  
  
He saw where her one visible eye went. "Oh. She packed you a change." He held out the bag and waited.  
  
The Slayer opened the door a little more and quickly grabbed the bag before shutting the door abruptly. There was no way she was going to let Spike see her in just a towel. He may be a chipped vampire, but he's still a guy.  
  
As an afterthought, she turned back to the door, and almost thanked him again. But again, considering her was a vampire, she decided the one thank you would suffice. A moment later she let the hot water of a less than powerful showerhead rinse her body clean.  
  
Spike found himself alone, listening to Buffy sing, off key no less. He wasn't sure what to do with himself now. Just sitting and waiting around for his mortal enemy to bath wasn't one of his plans.  
  
What was worse, she didn't seem to be suffering much from the brownies with the extra herbal quality. He watched the door a few more minutes, and rethought that. After all, would a normal slayer be showering not 10 feet from an evil vampire? Would said Slayer be singing Wind Beneath My Wings, badly, within earshot of said vampire. Especially considering the hidden meaning of the song between the two.  
  
Spike smiled, slipped off his coat and began setting himself up. First he grabbed a beer from the micro-ice box that he usually kept stocked with a few supplies in case he got stuck there for a day. He flipped on the TV, another perk of the hotel room was the free cable, and arranged himself comfortably on the bed. Sitting against the head-board, he fished through his pockets and found his smokes along with an old deck of cards.  
  
On the table beside the bed was the bag of brownies. The only other stop he'd made was to his crypt on the way back. Again he grinned, then dealt for a game of solitaire.  
  
||||~~~~~||||~~~~~||||  
  
"Just like mom." Buffy smiled when she pulled out the comfy sweats. The last thing she felt like wearing was a restraining trendy outfit. Right now relaxation and comfort was all she needed. Not something easily accomplished with a certain peroxide blonde just in the next room, but at least she'd be warm, and had clean cloths to wear while her other garments dried.  
  
The only thing that would make this perfect would be one less vampire, and ice cream.  
  
Buffy took the time to comb through her hair before walking out and eyeing the scene before her. Her attention was drawn for a moment to the random darker strands of hair. For some reason she thought they looked exceptionally good today. Even wet.  
  
Honestly, she didn't know what Spike would do to occupy himself, and she quite frankly didn't care, but seeing him lounging on the bed eating crackers while cheating at solitaire somehow wasn't even close to one of her possible guesses. To top it off, he had an old movie playing, and she could swear it was a John Wayne one from the voice coming from the television.  
  
She watched quietly as he turned a card in the 2 dimensional pyramid lying on the bed over, then looked and decided it wasn't what he wanted, then turned it back over and reshuffled the partial deck in his hand.  
  
She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. "Spike. It's solitaire. You're cheating against no one." She accused.  
  
Spike's head snapped up when she started up her short rant. "Well, then I'm not botherin' anyone. Am I, then?" He answered with a grin and continued shuffling.  
  
It wasn't worth it, she decided, and walked to the the only chair in the room. A small, but cushioned, armchair was soon filled with the slayer, now refreshed and awake from the shower. Her eyes fell easily to the television, and sure enough The Duke was riled up about some guy doing wrong in the western town of 'Wherever USA'.  
  
Spike paid as little attention to her as possible, only sneaking looks every so often to see if she was acting odd at all. Other than being strangely fascinated by the movie playing, one that he hadn't seen in so many years he thought it could have been at the theaters when the show was released.  
  
"Well hey there Pilgrim." Buffy tried to impersonate the words, but came off sounding like a sick pig with a bad Texan accent.  
  
"That was bloody awful." Spike said blank faced and staring right at her still holding the deck. "John's probably rollin over in 'is grave."  
  
Buffy just shrugged. "He's my mom's thing anyway." She watched the TV for a few more seconds, then turned and sat sideways in her seat so she could see Spike. "So this is it?"  
  
He looked up at her questioningly. "What? 'D you expect me to entertain you too?"  
  
She blinked and began to protest. "Well, no. But there has to be some-" She saw the bag on the table and narrowed her gaze. "What's that?"  
  
A corner of the vampire's mouth turned up. "A snack."  
  
Buffy looked from the bag to the blonde. "I swear, if there is an animal it that-"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Please, Slayer." He said and grabbed the bag, then turned it upside down over the table. The tiny squares of chocolate spilled onto the table top and Buffy felt her mouth water at the sight.  
  
Spike shook his head when Buffy's eyes got big, and her tongue darted out to lick her lips. Now, with a chip, this is when coaxing the slayer into a trap gets easy? Sometimes life was just very cruel.  
  
He sighed, hoping he sounded agitated. "Did you want one?"  
  
Buffy heard him. He sounded like he hoped she'd turn the bite down. So of course, "Sure." She said and snatched on, then two and settled back into the chair. "Got milk?"  
  
Spike took one piece and devoured it before answering. "What makes you think I have milk? I'm a vampire, not a bloody kitten."  
  
About halfway through the second brownie, Buffy realized what his evil plan was. She turned again in her seat and looked back at him with true hatred, and with a full mouth mumbled out. "You don't have any milk?" Which sounded a bit like, "Ooo onet ave mamy miok?"  
  
Spike cocked an eyebrow and watched her try to form words around the food taking up most of the space in her mouth. When she finished her question, he began to chuckle again.  
  
She waited for him to stop, but instead of his normal rude and condescending laughter, she got a full throated, William the Bloody is seriously amused, unable to contain it, guffaws.  
  
She chewed slowly and let him have his giggles. And just before e the last of her snack was swallowed, she heard him actually giggling. A high pitched, completely lost it, giggles.  
  
Like a girl.  
  
Before she knew it, she was laughing just as hard, and had no clue why.  
  
At some point Spike realized he wasn't the only one laughing, and settled himself down when he saw a pink faced slayer holding her sides while between gasps, fits of laughter erupted from her.  
  
Now, looking serious, Spike pointed at her. "Hey now. What's so funny?"  
  
Buffy stopped all at once and looked up at him. Her face felt hot from all the laughing, and her stomach ached along with it. She couldn't respond, because when she saw him, all she could hear echoing in her head were the squeals of him laughing, and again she was taken over by the spasms of hilarity.  
  
"Well," Spike said quietly to himself. "They're working."  
  
He watched as she tried again to gain control, and failed. Her wet hair hung over her face and shook with the tremors shaking Buffy.  
  
If it weren't for the chip, he could take her easily. She'd be dead and gone before the next fit hit her. But not now. Now he was. impotent.  
  
Well that did it for him. No more laughing, just getting annoyed at the blonde one across the room.  
  
Buffy looked up through her tears and saw Spike's solemn face. Her face fell and she gripped the back of the chair steadying herself. "Well you can just suck the joy right out of a room, can'cha?"  
  
"I do what I can." He said with a glower.  
  
"Oh co'mon Spikey. Don't be so gloomy." She said and smiled sweetly at him and batted her eyes. "You can't help it if you can't win at solitaire."  
  
He shook his head. "Not even close, Slayer."  
  
"Close to what?" She said, actually curious.  
  
He looked up, and figured at the very least, the conversation would pass the time. There was no way he was leaving her in one of his Sunnydale refuges alone for the whole night. A half hour sure, but if she went off and decided to snoop. it could be bad.  
  
"Not even close to what I was thinkin'." He finally answered.  
  
Now she really was curious. "Ok than. What?"  
  
This time, his chuckle was rude, but aimed at himself. He looked up and saw her twisted around in her seat, waiting for an answer. "Was thinkin-" He began, and tried again to decide if this was the best move. "Was thinkin' 'bout how easy it would be to kill you. All laughing, and distracted."  
  
Buffy stopped breathing, and widened her eyes. "Oh." Her mouth kept the shape of the word for a good minute.  
  
Spike waited for her to say more, but it never came. "Not to worry though, Slayer. Still chipped."  
  
Buffy quickly waved off his words. "Well yeah. I know that. I just-" She wrinkled her brow, and thought about it. "I guess I forgot is all." She looked away from him. "Well that can't be good."  
  
No laughter this time, just a smile, "Yeah, better keep those wits about you. Never know when the Big Bad will get his fangs back." And why the hell is The Big Bad warning you of this?  
  
She smiled too. "Have to remember that." And why is he telling me?  
  
She couldn't think straight, and neither could he. This was all very odd.  
  
Buffy spied the cards and gathered the deck.  
  
Spike leaned back from her when she crawled on the bed and rearranged his cards. "Hey now!! What's all this?"  
  
Buffy began shuffling. "I don't think I can deal with the honesty. Not without a distraction." She said while she dealt.  
  
He gave her a half grin. "Alright then. What we playing then?"  
  
Buffy smiled when she set the remainder of the deck in the middle. "Every Slayer's favorite game, cuz it's the one she'll never play." She rhymed, and picked up her cards fanning them out so only her eyes could view her hand.  
  
Spike smiled fully this time. "Old Maid it is."  
  
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THE END  
  
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This was just Fluff. hope you liked it. 


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